


stfu | belphegor

by EverybodyGetsHigh



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Gen, Love Confessions, i poured my heart and soul into this one, inspired by my queen phem, jelly attic boy, like a fluff and angst taco. it has layers, some self deprication because...i mean...it's belphie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverybodyGetsHigh/pseuds/EverybodyGetsHigh
Summary: word count: 4.1kpairing: belphegor x gn!reader (pretttty sure it's a gender neutral reader, but if it isn't please let me know!)warnings: mature language. that’s pretty much it.synopsis: belphegor’s been biting his tongue for far too long. it’s time to make you hisinsp: i was listening to phem at the time but she’s a constant inspiration. so
Relationships: Belphegor & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	stfu | belphegor

belphie liked you. he really did, despite the whole fiasco where he tried to murder you and all. but after that⸻things were great! and no matter how hard he tried to seem indifferent to your existence, it was painfully obvious how he truly felt.

and there are a lot of things he admires about you. how selfless you are, always putting everyone’s needs over your own without thought. taking care of them just comes naturally to you, and for his brothers’ happiness, he owes you the world.

belphegor admired the way your pretty hair framed your face and how your eyes sparkled when you laughed. and he liked that too, how you never seemed to stop having fun and chuckling at your own stupid jokes.

he especially loved the way you pouted as you studied, chin tucked into the palm of your hand. a stray (h/c) strand tickling your nose. you’re adorable in every sense of the word.

what blew belphegor away the most, however, is that you didn’t even have to try to make his heart flutter. just being yourself never failed to mesmerize him, and it eventually got to the point where he questioned your mortality. you certainly set the bar high for the rest of your kind. but even then, there’s no one else in the entire three realms that could ever compare to you. you hold a special place in all of their hearts, especially his.

but as his feelings for you grew, so did that sense of guilt he’s never been able to quite shake off. belphie _killed_ you. murdered you in cold blood. there’s no way you could ever come to care for him in the way that he cares for you. not after all he’s done.

there’s no way you could forgive him. he wouldn’t want you to, there’s no excuse for the way he used and manipulated you.

there’s no way he could ever be as close to you as his brothers’ are.

he didn’t deserve you. he couldn’t even bring himself to fucking apologize for christ's sake.

so he continues to watch you from afar, heart clenching with an ugly emotion every time he sees you with anyone else. especially the avatar of greed⸻the scum of the devildom. it hurt belphegor’s pride to no end just knowing that you cared about mammon more than you did for him.

but that’s not what bothered him the most about your relationship with the white haired, money lusting demon. it was the other’s blatant affection for you, his older brother’s crush more than just a little obvious. he followed you everywhere like a lost puppy; picking little arguments and claiming he couldn’t give a shit about some human. but mammon had fallen for you, and fallen for you hard. 

just like belphegor had. and yet, you never smiled at him the way you did for the others.

beelzebub casts a sharp glance across the couch upon hearing an exasperated yell. belphegor held a tight grip on a chunk of his hair, tugging harshly. as if the pain in his scalp would distract him from the foreign, awful things he’d been feeling inside.

the tattooed demon has one hand in a chip bag, extra cheddar coating the ruffled potatoes. but all chewing ceases the moment he takes in his twin’s distress. “what’s wrong?” his voice sounds flat, but there are clear lines of concern etched into his face. also apparent in the tilt of his head and the way his eyes dart all across the other, searching for any signs of hurt.

belphie responds by tossing his head backwards. then releases another drawn out, frustrated groan.

“belphie?” his brother’s growing more worried by the second.

“i hate this movie.”

“why?”

he didn’t know, to be honest. it had been fine up until now, a little cheesy but that wasn’t what had gotten to him. no, not at all. it was the characters.

they were too familiar, too love-struck, too hopeless. two best friends in love with the same person, where one already has the main character at their side and the other is forced to watch sadly from the sidelines. although, belphegor wouldn’t consider mammon his best friend, or that they were very close at all. the film was still beginning to hit too close to home. especially when he could clearly hear you laughing with the other a few doors down from his and beel’s room.

“we can change it if you want. i wasn’t that into it anyway.” with a lazy, uninterested shrug, beelzebub suggests.

belphegor is tempted to call his brother out on the lie when he had been clearly interested; gasping at every dramatic twist and turn. and shoveling fistfuls of salty snacks into his mouth when the story line got a bit too sad for his liking.

his brother really is such a softie⸻the thought almost makes belphie crack a half-smile, but he just doesn’t have it in him to. hands clenched into tight balls around the fuzzy, white tiger blanket. his knuckles an off-white color.

with a bitter sigh, he shakes his head. “no. it won’t do any good. i don’t think i’m really up for a movie night anymore.”

“how come?”

he doesn’t know how to answer so he keeps quiet. maybe he’ll confess another time when he’s finally able to wrap his head around the way he feels. when he can understand his own emotions better. but as for right now, he’d rather go pass out and sleep his worries away.

the raven haired demon’s about to get up as he collects his favorite pillow; the one with the cow print and little moo tail. but his brother’s next words send ice coursing through him. heart lurching out of his chest.

“is it because of (m/c)?”

yes. of course it fucking is. no one else got underneath his skin the way you did. no one else made him smile like you did, either.

he snaps. “no.”

“but⸻”

“i don’t give a fuck about them.”

he clutches his pillow tighter to his chest before storming out, choosing to nap somewhere else. anywhere but here.

the idea that his brothers might know how he feels about you⸻that _you_ might know⸻scares the living daylights out of him. so he pretends as if beel had never said anything at all. that no one has figured him out. that he’s still just as alone in this world as he’s always perceived himself to be.

♡

belphegor had been on his way over to the observatory when he noticed your door was open. it had been a split second decision to pop inside, curious if you were in there and if you were alright. but he hadn’t thought about what would happen if you were actually inside.

you had been, of course. legs sprawled out in front of you as you sat on the hard, dark floorboards. polaroids splayed out in rows between your thighs.

ah, he’s noticed you and your little camera before. constantly pausing a moment to take a quick shot with the demons. when asked about it though, you only answered by stating that the photos were for whenever you returned back to your own world. that way you could look back at the pictures and relive some of your best memories with them.

it always went silent after that.

none of them wanted you to leave. not even belphegor anymore. he regrets the day he had with every fiber of his being. what he did to you eats him up alive. still, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to bring himself to apologize, though. as if a simple sorry could even fix things between you two.

the door had creaked when he’d poked his head inside and your attention snaps to him in an instant. you hadn’t frowned like he had expected you to. your happy expression didn’t fall the moment you noticed it was him, and not mammon. but instead, you eagerly beckoned him inside. 

you wanted to . . . hang out with him? really? despite the negative voices whispering to him otherwise, the tired boy came shuffling inside with a yawn. foot falls near silent while he hesitantly lowered himself to sit beside you.

“what are you doing?” he cursed at the crack in his voice. 

“oh, i’m just organizing.” 

there’s a colorful photo album to your left. the cover a bright teal and decorated in an abundance of “kawaii” stickers you probably got from leviathan. you reach up to fiddle with the choker wrapped around your throat. 

“yeah?”

what you’re doing isn’t that interesting. he leans forward anyway, hanging off your every word.

“mhm,” you nod. “did you need something, by the way?”

“uh, no.”

“just wanted to hang out?”

“i was planning on taking a nap in the attic, actually. but i saw your door open and thought i’d check in.” did that sound weird? “. . . but i wouldn’t mind sticking around. th-that’s if you don't⸻”

what the fuck, did he just _stutter?_ the urge to facepalm at himself is too strong right now. but belphegor suffices with burying his face into the pillow, cheeks aflame. hopefully, you won’t notice.

“i like hanging out with you. wish we did it more often.”

when you shoot him a comforting smile, he forgets to breathe.

“really?”

he can’t help the way his eyebrows have shot up to his hairline. your comment makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. a warmth he’s only ever felt before with you to consume his chest once again. there’s no way you could actually mean that. right?

belphie won’t openly refute your words. but he resigns to telling himself that you’re just being polite, anyway. as honest as you always seem to be, sometimes to the point where it shocks him and his brothers into a blush⸻he can’t bring himself to believe you. it just doesn’t make sense.

even so, he subconsciously shuffles closer. hovering over your side to peer down at the photo currently clasped between your painted fingernails. he likes the color you’ve chosen, a lighter shade of cyan.

he had done it without thought, a mere instinct of his body; belphegor nestled his chin into the crook between your neck and shoulder. but the realization of what had happened only hit him when you rested your head against his own. holding the polaroid up to eye-level so he could get a clearer view, as well. 

there’s a stone lodged in his poor throat and he’s afraid to even swallow. as if the smallest movement could become jarring and you’d suddenly remember who you’re cuddled up to. but you’ve still made no move to jump away, nor yell at him for even daring to come close to you. there’s no fear, no anger, no regret; just the grin upon your face as you crane your neck to get a better look at him. 

his body spray, you note, smells like lavender and vanilla.

“what do you think?” you had mused, referencing the photo you’d taken of . . . of him?

belphie’s typical half-lidded eyes had widened at the sight, reaching a hand over to take hold of the photo of himself. being extra careful to not smudge any fingerprints on it.

there he was, and he wasn’t sleeping like someone would expect. like he would of assumed. no, he was very much awake. cocooned in a navy, star-patterned blanket, and beaming over at his twin. that day, he had brought home some left-overs from hell’s kitchen and gave them to beelzebub. who nearly choked on his own spit at the unexpected gift. scarfing the meal down in a matter of seconds.

belphie faintly recalls the purpose behind that smile he had worn; he’d been reflecting on how glad it made him to be around his brother again. you had been there too, and he remembers constantly glancing your way. grin only growing when you’d catch him in the act. 

briefly, he wonders how you’d even managed to sneak a picture of him without him noticing. but weirder things have happened, he supposes.

sitting back on his heels, his shoulders slump, a puzzled look upon his face. “why did you take this?” belphegor had barely registered the question coming from him. there’s a crease between his thin brows, pink lips pursed in quiet thought.

you’ve shifted around to face him then, palms planted onto your now folded legs. the meaning behind his inquiry, you’re not sure, and you’re almost a little afraid he’s mad you’d snapped a pic of him without his permission. but he had just looked so happy in that moment, you couldn’t resist.

with a limp shrug of your shoulders, your gaze dances about his features. searching for any giveaway as to what he might be feeling inside right now.

“i, uh, i don’t know. i thought you looked cute. you should smile more often.”

there you go with that over the top honesty again. one of these days its going to stop his heart completely. 

“oh,” he’d mumbled, handing back the polaroid. 

the silence is tense between the both of you. you’re not sure if it’s only one sided, or if he also feels it. because while you’re waiting for him to get mad and storm off. belphegor’s mind is too hectic right now to notice your terse expression. he’s desperate, searching for a reason as to why you’d want to take a picture of _him.  
_

you don’t know why you felt compelled to tell him the truth. but you say it anyway: “it’s my favorite photo, actually.”

belphie’s eyes snap to yours at a lightening pace. something you can’t quite decipher flashing within them. they’re bright purple with a glare of fuchsia, and gorgeous in every way. long, delicate lashes blinking slowly. 

“why?” it came out in an almost whisper. 

“you’re your happiest when you’re with beel, so i wanted to capture you like that. when i’m back in the human world, i want to remember your smile the most.”

“that’s . . . weird.” 

you snort, tucking the ends of your bangs behind an ear. “if you say so.” 

belphegor’s nod is hesitant, slow, like he’s not fully there. but then he shakes his head as if to snap himself out of whatever daze he’d let himself fall into. meeting your stare head on, he abruptly inquires: “can i stay with you for the rest of the night?” 

he didn’t even need to ask. “yeah. do you want to spend the night?”

“yes, i . . . i’d like that.”

♡

there are a lot of things belphegor liked about you. this was not one of them.

did you ever shut up?

the sky outside has long faded into a pitch-black nothingness, no stars twinkling above. no moon to guide a wandering stranger’s path. if it wasn’t for the dim, lapis blue lighting of the stained glass novelty lamp upon your nightstand⸻although belphie would have, you wouldn’t of been able to see a single thing. not even your hand in front of your face. 

the two of you are sprawled out on your backs, laying side by side and swaddled in separate comforters. his arm had fallen beside yours hours ago, and although your knuckle brushed against his. he still hasn’t found it in himself to take hold of your hand yet. 

when belphegor would have loved to of dozed off hours ago, the fact that you were even bothering to hold a conversation with him kept him wide awake. while you chattered on and on about anything and everything; your honesty setting to the max now that it’s passed three am already. 

he enjoyed listening to your rambling, though. more than he cared to admit. but as your stories from back home in the human world transitioned into your colorful tales of all the fun things you and mammon have been doing together lately⸻belphegor, not so surprisingly, began to grow annoyed with you. 

“oh! and then last weekend, we slipped out around midnight and went to this underground black market type thing⸻” belphegor’s hands curled into compact fists. anger coursing through his veins. 

all he got from your adventures with the avatar greed was that mammon was reckless and even more of an idiot than belphie had originally thought. one of these days, you were going to get seriously hurt under the influence of the other. or worse. 

the other thing he learned from listening to you; is that you talked too much about his brothers.

“would you shut the fuck up?” belphegor had blurted out when he just couldn’t take it anymore. it was always mammon this, mammon that, with you. and as stupid and childish as he sounded right now, he wanted it to be about _him_ for once. 

he’s tired of bottling up everything he feels inside. tired of biting his tongue and making it bleed. 

your mouth has snapped shut, eyes glued to the ceiling above. sure, you had thought you were talking too much about yourself. but you just figured he would pass out if he wasn’t interested in what you had say. then again, you’ve never known what to expect with him.

you can’t lie, the harsh tone of his voice cut right through you, and you’ve scrambled up into a seating position. hand clutched over your heart, right where it hurts. 

“sorry, i⸻” what do you even say to that? you’re choking on air. 

_fuck_ , belphie hadn’t meant it. his temper had gotten the best of him. it was a _mistake_ , but he seems to make a lot of those. 

he closes his eyes with a grimace, a bitter sigh at the tip of his tongue. great, _fucking great_ , if things weren’t already rocky between the two of you before. he can’t even imagine what they’ll be like now. 

“i’ll just go.” you’ve decided this conversation has played its course for the evening. or more like, he has. 

this is your bedroom, but maybe belphegor will be gone by the time you come back. that way you don’t have to face him for a second longer. that way you won’t suffocate beneath the heavy, angst-riddled tension within this room.

he hears the sound of you clambering into a standing position. hears the whimpering wood beneath your footsteps, and his eyes snap open. panic shoots through his chest, stabbing at his heart. if he lets you go now, that’s it. there’s no going back. there’s no chance of things ever being okay between the two of you. 

he’s up and dashing after you in an instant. catching your wrist in a tight grip, you’re spun around to face him. belphegor’s so close, it startles you into taking a step backwards. pressing yourself up against the wall as best you can, but he only draws nearer. his hands come up to trap you in place; planted against the wallpaper on either side of you. 

you hate the lurch of fear you had felt when he had grabbed onto you. belphegor hates how it lingers in your (e/c) eyes now, marring their shine. an ugly, sad feeling comes crawling up inside him. but he forces it back down with a hard swallow. 

this close, the lamp’s azure glow highlights the slope of his nose; his lashes, and the gloss of his lips. he is ridiculously pretty, all silken hair and dreamy amethyst eyes. despite the racing of your heart, you still find yourself drawn to him. body leaning forwards entirely on its own. 

you’re not sure what you expect belphie to do, say. the gleam in his eyes is undecipherable, expression monotone. but he drops his head to your shoulder; the most helpless gesture you’ve seen from him yet. belphegor buries his face into your collar bones then, nuzzling his cheek against your warm skin. 

“i,” his voice comes out muffled by the cotton of your baggy pulp fiction shirt. “i didn’t meant it. fuck, i didn’t mean it, (m/c).” 

you’re flush against him, finding it hard to breath with belphie so impossibly near. your voice has vanished into thin air, a heat burning up to the tips of your ears. maybe you’re a fool for melting within his arms. or, maybe you’ve just waited for this for entirely too long. your resolve cracks in two.

there’s a hitch in your breath, a shiver interrupting your words. you’re just glad he’s not looking at you right now, or you’d be ruined for sure. “then why do you do it, belphie? why do you always open up to me one second, then push me away in another?”

even though you can’t see his face, his shoulders stiffen, hunch up. his breath takes on a jagged edge. arms falling limply to his sides, but he remains pressed against you. 

“i don’t know.”

“don’t lie.”

“i’m not.”

in a moment of confidence, you nudge him, backing away from the wall. he’s so, so much stronger than you, yet he’s letting you push him around like a toy. 

belphegor must have thought you were trying to leave, for he flinches and wraps his arms around you then. cradling you closer, pushing his nose against your neck.

“okay!” he panics. “i won’t . . . i won’t lie.” his nails start to dig into the back of your shirt in a way that you’re pretty sure is unconscious. 

“then what’s the problem?” despite the firm tone, your hands have come up to cradle the back of his head. fingers tenderly playing with the soft, short strands at the base of his neck. 

belphie takes in a shuddering breath. a heat burning the adams of his cheeks. “i hate that even though you’re with me, you’re still thinking about him.”

your brows knit together. “mammon?”

you feel him nod against you, delicate hairs tickling your jaw. 

“oh.” 

the understanding settles in then, seeping beneath your skin. you hadn’t realized⸻the words die in your throat. you know why he feels that way, it’s obvious now. but still, you want him to say it. you want him to admit out loud that what he really wants is _you_. 

so you press your lips together. resting your cheek atop his head before asking: “why?”

belphegor pulls away then, hands sliding down to grip onto your hips. there’s an incredulous look upon his face that fades the moment you take your lip between your teeth. observing him through a hooded gaze. 

your eyes tell him everything he needs to know. everything he’s ever dreamed about. even though the buried insecurities fight to ignore it, to not get his hopes up too much. you want him in the very way that he wants you. the look you send him is enough to have him leaning forward. 

“because . . . “ how does he even begin to explain the way he feels? in all honesty, belphie never thought that he’d even get this far. and now that he’s here, he’s floundering. 

how could he ever admit that when he dreams, he dreams of you?

how could he tell you that needing you is like a chain of thorns wrapped around his throat? that he’d die without you, even though he’s choking on it every time you’re near. 

how could he confess something so intimate about him? something he’s not even fully willing to accept himself. 

he’s not afraid to. he just doesn’t know where to start. 

but when your fingers trace along his forearm, trailing down to his palm where you take his hand in yours⸻everything falls into place. everything feels right as you close your eyes with a quiet breath before looking at him again, as if he were a miracle before you. 

belphie’s stare flits to your lips, and he runs his tongue over his own. 

“because i want you to only think of me. before you go to sleep, when you wake up in the morning. when you’re with my brothers. i want to be your every waking thought. like you are mine.” he finally admits.

he wants you to crave him in every sense. in the way that he does with you; your hands, your lips, your taste. the feel of you pressed close to him but it’s never seemingly close enough. he craves you entirely. 

his heart is filled with so much unadulterated hope, blown up like a hot air balloon, and any moment now he feels like he’ll take off for the sky. suspended alone on his pitifully optimistic expectations. but then you give him a nod of encouragement, mouth parted delectably. and he’s grounded once again. 

so he dips his head to press his lips to yours. tangling his hand in your hair and pushing for more with every breath. and when his words had failed him before, belphie breaks the kiss to whisper: “i want you. all of you.”

so you let him have it. cupping his jaw and scattering small kisses all across his face. from his cheeks, to his nose, to his forehead; you shower him in your love.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo. send in a request, loves!


End file.
